Martin's Springtime
by Sanddobby
Summary: The story of Martin the Warrior's daughter Springtime. This story will be very long when im done! ON HOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
1. prolouge

Snow fell silently outside the small woodland hut in the depths of Mossflower wood. Inside, a merry little fire was burning in the hearth, warming the little cottage and its inhabitants.   
"Muvva, you said you gonna tell me story!" Cried the tiny mousebabe as he clambered up on to his mother's lap.   
"Well so I did! Let's see now, what would you like to hear about?" she replied, with a hint of laughter in her voice.  
"Gweat gwamfada Matin! Gweat gwamfada Matin!" he yelled excitedly.  
"Well then, great grandfather Martin it is. Perhaps you would like to hear about him and your grandmother Springtime?"   
The baby mouse began nodding so hard his head looked about ready to fall off!   
"Ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya but don makin' me do dis no moa or my head gonna fall off!"  
The mousewife laughed merrily. "Alright, come, sit on my lap here and I'll tell you the story..."   
  
  



	2. Chapter 1

"Springtime! Come inside! It's time for a bath!" called Laterose, knowing that she would have to exert more force to make her defiant daughter take a bath. "Oh, what am I going to do with you, little monster" Rose thought aloud, "never behaving the way a proper mousemaid should, always running about with that squirrel, Crisken, and getting yourself dirty, so that you just have to take another bath. Oh well, I believe I'm going to have to call Bella."   
Bella of Brockhall, Redwall Abby's resident badger, was sitting next to the abby pond, sipping cold mint tea. She looked up and saw Rose approaching. "Springtime again, is it?" She remarked offhandedly.   
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Rose answered.  
"What now, won't take a bath?"  
"I can't even find where she's got to. Will you..."  
"Help you find her and make her take a bath? I'd be delighted."  
"Thank you!" Rose cried gratefully, "I don't know what I'd do without you!"  
"You can thank me later. Now let's go find that daughter of yours!"  
***   
Verkilde. A name feared throughout the land. Tales about him were so awful, that many believed that he was some kind of evil monster that haunted the depths of imagination. But the evil was very much real. Verkilde was a fox, black from tip to tail except for a small patch of white on his left footpaw. Tall, lithe, wiry, strong, very sly, wise and clever, and bigger then most foxes, he led a small band of robber foxes. Even though it was a small group, it was feared across the land. "I don't care about size. If I had a huge horde, then it would be impossible to sneak around undetected. That way we wouldn't get anything done." He would say if someone suggested a bigger horde. He led his band across the country, plundering, destroying, and killing. With him roving the land, no one could tell whether they would wake up with a knife at your throat. Verkilde was a plague to the land. Verkilde was coming to Redwall!  
  
  



	3. Chapter 2

Author's note: FINALLY!!!!!!!! The finished chapter 3!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: forgot this at the beginning, all charactors except spring, virkilde, his foxes, and a few others are created by B.J.  
  
Dripeye shifted uneasily in the ranks of Virkilde's robber band. He didn't know why the chief had called them there, but he had a bad feeling about it. Partly because he and his friend Ratface had played a rather nasty trick on him last night (namely putting honey and a hornet's nest in his tent while he slept). A hush fell over the 26 or so foxes as Virkilde appeared from the tent. Dripeye could have burst out laughing. The chief's normally sleek black fur was tangled and sticky, and there were large red bumps all over his face and legs. Someone in the crowd couldn't suppress a snigger, but they were immediately silenced by a murderous look from the leader. "As you can see, we have a practical joker in the group," he said at a level of dangerous calm. "Ratface, up here. NOW." Dripeye looked at his partner in crime. The fox was trembling uncontrollably, and his eyes were wide with terror. It was plain to see that he was rooted to the spot with terror. "Well, well, it seems that we have a rebel too. Ratface, if you aren't here by the time I count to 10, then you will be sorry that you were ever born." Virkilde began to count. "1.2.3." Ratface quickly found his feet, and began scrambling for his life through the crowd. By the time Virkilde had counted to six, Ratface was there, panting for all he was worth. He stood up and saluted. The chief's paw shot out, grabbing the unfortunate fox by the throat and lifting him off the ground. "This fox thinks it's funny to disgrace his commander." His voice boomed out over the crowd, "Well, let me tell you, it's not funny!" The dangling Ratface tried to say something, but it came out "Gurgle aught gyyle Dripeye!"  
  
"Silence! Now, everyone watch how I punish practical joking!" He turned to face Ratface, drew his sword, and ran the poor fox through. Hi pulled the sword free, and dropped the carcass on the ground. "Aikaron, get the troops ready to move. It's getting dark."  
  
An hour later, the setting sun shone down on Virkilde, at the head of the column of 25 foxes, one less then that morning. 


End file.
